Drethok – a Skaarj – like all of his kind, belonged to a unique and ancient race blessed with extraordinary longevity, into whom the traditions of old were deeply etched. Among the ancient Skaarj clans, the highest respect was reserved for those who could preserve their heritage and strength. Drethok’s great-grandfather had been a renowned and feared Skaarj leader, one of the clan’s most formidable commanders. It was he who introduced the custom of branding the Skaarj symbol onto the chest of every clan member.
The receiving of the symbol was not a mere ceremony. Every Skaarj was branded at the age of sixteen, the age of maturity, when the young warrior became ready to serve the clan. The ritual took place on sacred, ancient ground, where the young were marked with a magical, scorching mineral called Vardeth. This rare, black stone is found only in the deepest caverns of the Skaarj homeworld. According to legend, it comes from the deepest layers of the planet and was passed down from the Skaarj forefathers, who had imbued it with mysterious power.
As the symbol was burned into the flesh, it radiated a strange light that heightened the pain, thereby purifying the warrior’s spirit. It was painful, but essential – a prerequisite for earning respect and taking on responsibility. The mark preserved the clan’s martial traditions and heroic legacy. Through the agony, the young warrior was meant to feel a symbolic connection to the spirits of the past. Once the mark was fully embedded in the skin, the elders gave their blessing, and the initiate became a full member of the clan – a status that also meant they could never forsake the laws of the kin.
Drethok – a Skaarj who had undergone the rite in his youth – knew that adherence to tradition was indispensable. Yet his story was not one of reverence for custom. Though his parents and mentors tried to shape him into a servant of evil and war, something else lived within him. His entire life was a struggle of conflicting forces. He never wanted to follow the path his clan had carved for him. He did not wish to become cruel and cold-blooded. But under the burden of tradition and the weight of history, he could not escape his fate.
As every member of the clan was raised for battle, Drethok and a particularly important female Skaarj – to whom his heart, too, was drawn – found themselves on the planet of the Nali. Together they fought, in a place where the Skaarj’s brutality and the horrors of war were part of daily life. Amid the fighting, they rescued many Nali children, and the female Skaarj – Drethok’s love – faced, day by day, the unspeakable horrors that war had brought. A different kind of bond formed between them, one nurtured by a shared longing – a longing to fight for peace and for life.
But the cruelty of battle always gave rise to new tragedies. In a devastating assault, Drethok’s beloved was taken from him under brutal circumstances. Drethok – in whom the final embers of humanity and love were barely flickering – lost everything that had once seemed sacred and true. Pain and madness shattered the world he had known. The emotional void her loss left behind unleashed a dark, destructive force within him – and it changed him forever. Why had they taken her? How could this have happened? – Because of the Nali. Had they not been sent to that world to fight, he would not have lost her.
She was killed by those they had helped. Those they had saved. Drethok lost all faith in the justice of war, and the longing for love – embodied in the female Skaarj – slowly faded away. His heart turned toward darkness. In a surge of anguish and fury, he set fire to the Nali children’s sanctuary. The innocents they had once tried to protect perished in the flames.
To the clan, Drethok was no longer just a warrior. He became something else – a new, merciless leader, a monster even his own brethren came to fear. Across the world, this became evident. Having destroyed all that had ever been sacred and pure to him, he became the embodiment of darkness and rebellion. His name became a symbol.
But fate showed no mercy. At the height of his power, amid his greatest triumphs, when every Skaarj both feared and revered him, something unexpected happened. A lone Nali – one Drethok had tried to kill, who had survived the slaughter and chosen to resist – brought an end to the Skaarj overlord. A single, unforeseen blow, a clever tactical move – and Drethok’s life was over. His eyes reflected rage and astonishment. In those final moments, his face may even have shown pain, perhaps even fear. The world stood in shock as the most feared warlord fell to a single, simple strike.
Though Drethok died, his name remains eternal among the Skaarj. He became legend – worshipped and feared even in death. In the clan’s chronicles, Drethok is remembered as one revered almost like a god.